8:16AM. 

Students weren’t the only ones arriving at school. Some people actually get paid to do so. 

A faded yellow Toyota Supra swerved into the last available spot in the teachers’ car park. With a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, Leon Matta turned off the engine and searched the glove box for a bottle of Old Spice that he was sure he had left in there. Disappointed and empty-handed, he swung open the car door, accidentally bumping the vehicle next to his. “Shit,” he groaned, inspecting the neighbouring car. It appeared as though no damage had been done, and Leon was in the clear. He threw the cigarette to the ground and headed inside, removing his shades and hanging them from his collar. Walking down the halls and into the teacher’s lounge, he felt very Miami Vice. The bright colours of his salmon coloured suit and baby blue button up shirt weren’t the only thing drawing attention to him this morning.

“Leon, you reek!” a repulsed Moriko Coda stated, as he walked straight over to the table she was sitting at. She leaned forward, her white, short-sleeved blouse bunching as she brought her arms together to hold her mug. Moriko lifted her mug to her lips, inhaling the smell of coffee, trying to rid herself of the overwhelming scent of alcohol that Leon had brought with him.

“Bag your face, Korra,” he retorted. Leon looked at the woman on the other side of the desk. “It’s not that bad, is it chica bonito?”

The nurse, Charlotte Knight, lifted her head from the notebook she had been writing in to look up at Leon. From a sitting down perspective, both Charlotte and Korra had dressed similarly, except that Charlotte’s blouse was long-sleeved with black cuffs. So clothing-wise, they were very similar today, it seemed. Charlotte was also unable to lie to him, even if he had just said some fancy Spanish words to her. “Uh, well…” Charlotte hesitated, closing her notebook and slipping it into her black faux-leather handbag.

“Forget I asked,” Leon said finally. He spun the chair around and straddled it, resting his forearms on its back. “I won’t make life drawing this week.”

“Why not?”, Charlotte asked, cocking her head to the side.

Korra let out an exasperated sigh before she spoke, “I’m not sure why you’re informing us. You hardly attend the group, and when you do, you’re 30 minutes late.”

“When you do, you’re 30 minutes late,” Leon mimicked and Korra rolled her eyes and took another gulp of coffee. Giving a quick nod to Charlotte, he asked, “Did you hear about it boy and the prom queen?”

Charlotte furrowed her brows. “Why?”

“I assume you mean Christopher Hughes and Chloe DeJuior?", Korra asked with raised eyebrows.

“Perhaps,” he replied, shrugging. “Anyway, they broke up just before school started back.”

Korra slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand and held it there. "You only just heard? That was a month ago, what rock have you been living under?”

Charlotte put her hand in front of her mouth to stifle her laugh. Then trying to compose herself, she said, “I hope you’re both ready and have room in your classes. I just spoke with Principal Davies not 10 minutes ago and she said that we have three kids transferring in today.”

“Three kids transferring in today?”, Korra repeated questioningly and Charlotte nodded. She pushed out her chair and stood, as Leon sighed and dropped his head down on the table, with a rather loud bang. She looked at her watch and then started taking her mug over to the coffee pot to refill it. “I’d better head to class then, see you at break."

Caroline Moore entered the staff room, her eyes searching the room. A few teachers oddly distributed around, a group of three talking in the far corner, and across the other side, Katherine Miller, by the pigeonholes. She made her way over. Carol wore a white, cotton dress, where the fabric was bunched together at her waist, like someone had just sewn a long-sleeved blouse and long skirt together. It seemed as if she was trying to dress for a certain time period today. On the other hand, Katherine couldn’t have been more opposite. If it weren’t for her obvious signs of ageing, she could have looked like one of the students. Wearing a black Metallica T-shirt, black and purple patterned surfer pants, and white Nike sneakers.

“Kath, I was wondering if I could-” she started saying, but Katherine shut her eyes and pursed her lips, shaking her head. “Can I just-”

Kath cut her off again, “No, no, I really don’t need to hear any more of your advice, especially not on a Monday morning.”

Carol pouted, her full lips looking even larger than normal. She held her long and slender hands out defensively, trying not to look down on her, despite being a foot taller. “Nothing like that. I was actually wanting your advice.”

Kath’s interest piqued as this and she tilted her head at Caroline curiously. “Advice from me?”

Caroline nodded. “Cooking advice, more specifically.” She could be seen debating whether she should give Kath more information, as she was generally a more private person, but was clearly in need of the help. “The other women in my book club have started baking scones and other assortments, and I can’t serve store-bought snacks to them anymore… Not now that they’re putting in so much effort.”

Kath folded her arms and smirked at Carol. “So you think because I’m the cafeteria lady that I must have some fantastic scone recipe that’s been in my family for generations?” That had clearly been what Carol was hoping for, but now that Kath had put it like that, the relisation struck Carol with just how wrong it was for her to presume that.

Kath, seeing Carol’s confusion, decided to put an end to Caroline’s torture. It wasn’t as fun to trick a fellow colleague as it was to tease the students. “I’m only messing with you, Carol. Swing by the cafeteria during third period. I don’t have a scone recipe, but I can show you how to make banana bread. You have a break then, no?”

Carol pondered this a moment, “How’d you know?”

Kath shrugged, letting another small smirk creep up and crinkle the corners of her mouth. “I know a lot more than you think, as I have eyes everywhere. See you in third,” she told her. Then grabbed her apron from her cubby and walked out, leaving Carol with a look of slight confusion.

Kylee Anderson walked confidently down the corridor. She had such a soft face for someone who works out, though even under her pantsuit people can see how tough and fit she was. Approaching a classroom door, she knocked, waited, and entered. Elizabeth Elliot was sitting at her desk, in the front corner of the room, scribbling ferociously. Her thick, heavily hair sprayed hair sat on her shoulders. Deep wrinkles were etched into her forehead as her brows furrowed further and her scowl became more prominent. She was a short, plump woman, who had to sit on an extra cushion just to sit comfortably at her desk.

“Elizabeth, a moment?”, Kylee asked, closing the door behind her. Elizabeth didn’t look up, only flicked her hand toward her in a gesture to continue, and so she did, hesitatingly. “It’s about Matteo Hayes. He’s barely in class, and when he is, he either seems to be dazed or unresponsive. Do you have this issue? Should I inform someone about it?”

“No need to involve anyone else. You only need to learn not let him get away with it. You’re letting him get away with it. Stand your ground and show him who is superior,” Elizabeth told her in an apathetic tone.

Kylee brushed her hair back behind her ear. “I suppose you’re right, I could-”

“Good, good,” Elizabeth interrupted, not really hearing her. “Can you shut the door on your way out?!”

To stop herself retorting angrily, Kylee had to bite her tongue. She turned swiftly and left, heading to her own classroom. Once at her door, she heard, “Miss Anderson, I think it’s time we talk again.” Both dread and relief filled her mind.